


My Yellow

by NETHERW4RT



Series: Blurry City Lights, Heavy Eyelids, and Polyester Skin [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Boys Being Boys, Confessions, Developing Relationship, Dorks in Love, First Kiss, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Hanging Out, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pining, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Songfic, Swearing, Teasing, dream is a gay ass mf, hes stupid in love, not really? but its song-inspired, nothing ever is tbh, same tags as usual, who woulda guessed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27442318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NETHERW4RT/pseuds/NETHERW4RT
Summary: So then I took my turn,Oh, what a thing to have done,And it was all yellow.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Blurry City Lights, Heavy Eyelids, and Polyester Skin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145126
Comments: 18
Kudos: 425





	My Yellow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ino_sukes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ino_sukes/gifts).



> [yellow - coldplay](https://youtu.be/yKNxeF4KMsY)

George was beautiful. He always was, to Dream. His poofy swoops of hair that fell just above his eyes, his rosy cheeks that would flush whenever Dream called his name, and especially his pale lips that always looked so kissable—Dream adored every bit of him.

He had found himself falling more and more as of late, staying up to watch George stream live and return his calls, daydreaming of reaching beyond the screen to touch him and kiss him and hold him until they fell asleep in each other’s arms. He could hope and wish, couldn’t he?

Dream nuzzled his chin against the edge of his arm, dark green eyes staring up at the bright monitor in front of him. “You look tired,” he commented, equally tired himself; he hadn’t slept in a while.

George responded in a playful hum, his chin resting in the palm of his hand. “I’m not the one lying down against my desk.”

“Your eyes are barely open, though.” He wasn’t wrong.

“It’s not my fault,” George mumbled. “I streamed for, like, _so_ long.”

“Take a break, Georgie.”

The Brit laughed and sat up again, rubbing at his eyes to rid himself of exhaustion for long enough to get himself back into bed. “I will. You don’t have to worry about me, Dream.”

Dream paused, watching George shift himself in his chair. “I do,” he said. “You’ll work yourself to the bone if I don’t.”

George scoffed, a smile finding its way onto his lips; Dream stared again, a moment too long, thinking how wonderful it would feel to kiss them. “You’re not my mother.”

“It’d be unfortunate if I was,” the younger retorted, smiling back at George through the screen. “Hey, George?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.” A held breath.

“I...love you too, Dream,” George replied tentatively; truthfully, neither was sure how far their ‘I love you’ stretched beyond platonic, or if it had stretched beyond it at all. Dream was only aware of the burst of emotions he had within his chest and George was only aware of the wave of security he felt wash over him.

Neither said another word for a long while.

Finally, George leaned back in his chair and looked away from Dream. “I’m gonna head off to bed now. Call again tomorrow?”

Dream nodded languidly and felt his eyes falling shut now that there was no need to force them open. “Okay,” he muttered into his arm, already feeling the warm embrace of sleep.

“Night, Dreamy.”

“Night, Georgie.”

The computer beeped quietly to signal the end of their call, and Dream finally slipped away.  
  


Tomorrow came, and Dream was met again with the person he found himself loving more and more. They had decided it would be best to record a few videos before just hanging out (Sapnap was likely still passed out; it was decently early in the morning for him), so now Dream was chasing after George in Minecraft, swinging his sword as if to taunt him.

“Oh, _George_!” Dream called, almost cackling as he gained ground on the poor Brit, who was already screaming as if he were bleeding out on the floor. “You have nowhere to run!”

“No, oh my god, let me go!” George shouted back, his character opting to run in circles instead since Dream was right—he didn’t have anywhere to run and he wouldn’t be able to shake the younger man off easily in the middle of a plains biome. It seemed to stretch for millions of blocks and George was having none of it. “This is so _unfair_!”

“How so?” Dream asked through giddy laughter.

“You have so much more stuff than I do!”

“That’s not my fault, Georgie, you could’ve got more! You just suck.”

“I—I do _not_! This game has it out for me!” And then another loud, high-pitched shriek that caused Dream to flinch back a little and pull off one side of his headphones. “ _Dream_!”

“What, what? Jesus, George, you’re killing my ears!” Dream leaned back in his chair and chuckled again, letting his character go still as George’s flashed red and disappeared from view, a clear indication of his inevitable demise.

“This is why we don’t let you be the hunter!” The Brit huffed, his expression shifting from frustration to adoration. “How are you so good?”

Dream grinned. “Dunno. Practice, I guess. Is that all we need?” George nodded and Dream clicked on his face-cam after he stopped recording. “You’re so _bad_ ,” he teased.

“I am _not_ ,” George retorted. “You’re just—you’re insanely good. I’ve beaten you before though, don’t forget it.”

“Certainly not, your highness,” Dream said in a mock-accent that caused George’s nose to scrunch up in something akin to disgust.

“You’re so stupid.”

“You love me, though.”

“Maybe.”

Dream smiled and more butterflies began to flutter around in his stomach.  
  


“Hey,” Dream stated simply, leaning against the palm of his hand.

“Wow, thanks for the warm welcome,” Sapnap scoffed and rolled his eyes, “asshole. Sad I’m not your little Gogy?”

Dream laughed a little, but it felt distant, as if he was somewhere else. “Maybe. He’s not _mine_ , though.”

“You serious?” Sapnap quirked a brow, watching the older’s movements. “Fuckin’ knew it. You’re in love with George, aren’t you?”

Dream blinked and sat up straight, huffing. “So what if I am?” He squinted in an attempt to examine Sapnap’s face, but found nothing but irritation—the kind that he had when he was concerned for his friend. “Dude, I’m fine.”

“You’re _not_. You’re sick in love, dude.”

“Ew, don’t say it like that. He hasn’t been on all day, so of course I’m a little lonely.”

“I’m here for you, Dreamy,” Sapnap cooed, clasping his hands together and making kissing noises to joke around. “I’m George and I’m _so_ biased towards Dream because he’s my _favorite_ YouTuber and we hold hands and flirt _all day long_!”

“ _Dude_!” Dream scolded, though he was flushed and laughing. It would be nice if they _did_ flirt all day long and were close enough to hold hands and more. “You’re so annoying.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m sick of third-wheeling you too dumbasses.”

“So _we’re_ the dumbasses?”

“Shut up, bitch.”

The blond grinned and then leaned back a bit, noticing a flash of a notification on his phone. It was George. He picked it up, ignoring Sapnap for the moment, and read it over; suddenly his breath caught and his eyes went wide.

“Uh, Sap?”

“What?”

Dream leaned forward in his chair. “Did George ever tell you anything about a trip?”

Sapnap furrowed his brow and scratched at the side of his face with a finger. “Probably not?” He said after a moment, the confusion evident in his voice. “Why?”

“He just texted me. Apparently he was on a plane? He said he just landed...somewhere.”

“Dude, what?” Sapnap chuckled and picked up his own phone, flicking through the notifications he never bothered to clear out. “He didn’t text me,” he muttered, sounding a bit dejected. Dream laughed again, but it was wavering.

The blond drummed his fingers against his desk, staying silent for a moment after; Sapnap kept quiet as well, letting him rack his brain for whatever he needed. Firstly, kinda rude that George would just go somewhere and not tell them. Weren’t they supposed to be best friends? Secondly, where the hell did he go anyway? It was clearly nowhere nearby, hence the plane.

Then his phone buzzed again and he choked.

“No fucking way,” Dream muttered and Sapnap curiously leaned closer to the camera.

“What? What happened?”

“I gotta go, man.”

“What? Dream—!” But he hurriedly ended their call. Dream’s mind was racing a million miles per hour—how could it not be? George had just told him he was _there_. He was _in Florida_.

His fingers trembled as he called George, heart pounding in his ears until the soft click indicated the other man had picked up. “George?” He asked tentatively.

“Dream.” The blond could hear the grin on George’s face. “So, are you gonna come pick me up? Oh, wait, I should say surprise first, right? Surprise!” He giggled.

Dream stifled his own laughter. “ _George_ ,” he started, “why the hell didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Well it wouldn’t have been a surprise then, would it?”

“You’re stupid.”

“Maybe, but this time I’m stupid _in Florida_. It’s hot as shit, though, so hurry up. How far are you?”

Dream paused and opened the name of the airport that George sent him. “Uh, around half an hour,” he said.

George clicked his tongue over the line. “Alright, I’ll just hang out inside for a bit then. I’ve never appreciated air conditioning more than I have now.”

“Yeah, well, you decided to fly out in the middle of summer.”

“Not the brightest choice, huh?”

Dream grinned. “Nope. I’ll see you there.”

“Sure, bye.”

“Bye.”

Exhaling, Dream ended the call and raced to grab his things and get in his car; he felt like he couldn’t breathe, but in the best way. His chest was tight and full of warm feelings he couldn’t place yet knew they all merged into what he would call love. He had never been so bored on a drive alone until then—he wanted to simply be there with George already, in person, and touch his face and his hair and everywhere he could reach. He wanted to feel that his friend was real (not that he wasn’t, but Dream needed confirmation now more than ever) and that this wasn’t all some crazy delusion.

By the time he was in the front line, the blond called George again. “I’m outside terminal, uh, I think it’s terminal four?”

“Oh, alright. You parked?”

“Yeah, first car outside the doors. Bright blue, you can’t miss it. Not even if you’re colorblind,” Dream remarked. His heart fluttered when he heard George laugh.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

Dream tucked away his phone, a yawn forming on his lips as he waited for George; hopefully the Brit wouldn’t take too long, otherwise he’d be forced to drive back around again and that would be a hassle. For a moment, he got lost in his thoughts, only to be pulled out of them again by a light tap on the passenger window. He smiled and unlocked the car doors, getting out to help George with his bags.

“It's weird seeing everyone drive on the opposite side of the road,” George noted as he slid into the passenger seat. “I feel like I’m the one driving here.”

“Well, you’re not,” the blond responded as he shut the door on his side. “I bet England is weirder.”

“Whatever,” George scoffed. The rest of their trip was silent, aside from a few nonsensical conversations and the background buzz of the engine and the radio. Dream noticed the song playing and reached to turn up the volume.

“You like this song?”

“I do,” Dream said. “It reminds me of what I love.”

George’s eyes scanned the tiny screen of the car radio and he hummed. _Yellow by Coldplay_. He had never heard the song before—barely knew the band—but it sounded nice. It sounded nostalgic, almost, in a strange way.

“What do you love?” He found himself asking, as if it were the most nonchalant thing he had ever asked. The air stilled, and Dream looked over at George once they reached a stoplight, gnawing gently at his bottom lip.

“You.”

Dream didn’t remember how he got himself here, but it didn’t seem to matter. He was merely happy with the fact that he was lying in bed with George facing him, their hands brushing against each other in a way that neither of them knew how to place.

“Dream,” George started in a whisper, “I like this. Being with you, I mean. In person.”

“I know,” Dream breathed. “I do too.”

The Brit smiled up at him and before either of them knew it, he was leaning forward, fingers curled around Dream’s hands, and kissing him. Dream was, of course, as giddy as he could be, but he also felt secure. It was as if this was what he was missing all along.

They parted after a moment, both grinning like idiots. George said nothing, his fingers playing with Dream’s hands contentedly; Dream didn’t mind at all.

“George, you—you’re my yellow.”

George giggled and gave him a strange look. “What? I thought my color was blue.”

“That’s not what I mean,” the blond said. He laughed a bit as well, squeezing George’s hands in his own. “I mean, you’re...my everything. You’re the most important person to me. I—I love you, George. For real.”

George’s cheeks flushed and he looked away for a moment, then lightly squeezed back against Dream’s hands. “Then you’re my yellow too, Dream. Well, you always were—your Minecraft skin, I mean. But you’re my everything.” He leaned forward again and lightly pressed their foreheads together. “I love you too, Dream. For real.”

In that moment, heart pounding louder than it ever had, Dream figured he would never look at the color yellow the same way again. He hoped George wouldn’t either.


End file.
